Evacuating a few times never getting it right, being a resident of Laguna one must learn to be ready. The warning comes unexpectedly. To date, we have experienced three.
1st evacuation:
The 1993 fire spread quickly through the Canyon. It was October with lack of rain. Dry weeds were plentiful. The winds blew the flames toward the ocean, making it difficult to control. Several homes were in its path.
While working, a neighbor who overreacts called urging me to come home. Soon after, a coworker’s husband called insisting we come home. The fast-moving fire was heading our way.
We traveled to Coast Highway stopping at a roadblock. Due to the danger, residents were allowed out, no one was allowed in, so we sat. This was pre-cell phone so we relied on word of mouth to get updates from evacuees. Sitting in the ash-covered car listening to the radio, we asked those fleeing “what part of Laguna are you from”? Learning their locations to determine if our homes were standing.
Planes were in the air dropping retardant onto the burning hills. The sky was oddly beautiful with a mix of orange, purple, and green. We watched the evacuees. Women had the kids, dogs, photos, and art. Guys had big red toolboxes, jet skis, scuba gear, motorcycles, and boats. We never made it back in. My coworker and I were blessed as our homes had survived.
2nd evacuation:
Tsunami warning, at home alone the warning came across the TV. Seeing my neighbor on her deck I called to her recommending we take one car. We sped away heading to her friends on a hill. Realizing I had not collected anything, I turned to her and asked “what did you take”? She had grabbed a bottle of wine and glasses… really?
3rd evacuation :
Fire in February, my husband was with me as the warning came early that morning. Half asleep we rushed packing. I grabbed family objects while answering my phone as concerned friends called. On the other hand, my husband remained calm loading his backpack. As we were evacuating the warning switched to voluntary. Calming down we reviewed our learnings.
I watched my husband unload his backpack. It contained a thumb drive and in his mind the most important of all the pre-work he had done preparing our taxes.
Guess there’s truth about things you can’t avoid: death and taxes.
Sue Graham, Laguna Beach
